


Hope in Hell

by SwoodMaxProductions



Category: Dead Cells (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Children, Feel-good, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Muteness, POV Nonhuman, Protectiveness, Rescue, Some Humor, kinda i guess, local blob saves kid, the Beheaded might be crude but he’s a good guy, the Beheaded’s Garfield-esque mental commentary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26674636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwoodMaxProductions/pseuds/SwoodMaxProductions
Summary: The Beheaded discovers something new: a survivor.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	Hope in Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Look I crave positivity so have a protective funny blobman

Every run was different. That was… well, it was more like the second rule of my life. Okay, maybe the third. Rule one was never stop. Never rest unless you’re absolutely sure you’re safe. Rule two was scavenge everything you can, and if one of the few living people left tells you it’s bad to loot dead bodies, flip ‘em the bird. Sure, I could also bring myself back from the monsters’ bullshit, (and I do mean  _ bullshit,  _ once one of those damn Inquisitors killed me through a  _ wall, _ what the hell?!) but that’s not a rule, that’s just a fact. 

But rule three would be that every run is different. I have no idea  _ why, _ I’m no genius. But I know you can’t just rely on a stable environment to protect you.

The tunnel I was in hadn’t been there last run. I’d bring up that I was on edge if it wasn’t normal for me to be trapped in an unfamiliar hellscape at this point. Now, you can’t rely on much on this island, but if there’s one thing you  _ can _ count on, it’s monsters. Those assholes will be  _ everywhere. _

That’s why it felt so weird not seeing as many. It was  _ suspiciously  _ quiet. I didn’t like it.

An earsplitting scream echoing off the walls from the far end of the tunnel told me exactly what was going on. The monsters were all up ahead. And from the sound of it, they’d found a survivor.

Instinctively, I broke into a sprint. There were no obstacles, they didn’t see me yet— if I was quick enough, then…

I would’ve shouted “HEY ASSHOLES” at the top of my lungs to get them to turn around and stop attacking whatever poor sap they’d cornered if I could. Always wanted to be a cool action hero guy. But my sword going into zombie flesh (or what was left of it, anyway) was good enough. By this run, I knew the drill for these guys. I knew how they attacked, how they moved, how they thought. The numbers kinda threw me off, though, and I did end up taking an arrow from an undead archer while I was busy stabbing a zombie in the face. I was used to it. And at least it didn’t hit me in the knee or something.

The last of them fell, and I got a good look at whatever idiot thought it’d be a good idea to wander into a bunch of goddamn zombies.

Oh. Oh shit. Oh  _ fuck. _

It was a kid. It was a little girl with ratty pigtails, cowering.

She was so…  _ small. _ She was shaking uncontrollably, and looking at me like I was her worst nightmare. ...Oh. Yeah. Fireball for a head. Right…

So… I waved. I wanted her to know that I’m friendly. I didn’t really have many other options, seeing as I don’t have a voice. But after a couple seconds she seemed to realize. 

“You… saved me…?”

I nodded. She seemed pretty confused, but went with it anyway. Heh. Story of my life, right there. I knew I had to get her down to the Havens. Right now. This time, I  _ could  _ do something. And damn it, if I could, I sure as hell would. I motioned for her to follow me.

“Wh— where are you going…?!”

Shit. No voice… I turned back and walked up to her. I had to come up with a way to get her to not only trust me, but follow me, too. I had to get her in with the Collector and the others. Nobody should be subjected to this bullshit,  _ especially _ not little kids. I wasn’t used to finding… you know,  _ survivors. _

I crouched down so I was at eye level with her, and hopefully less intimidating. I held out my hand. Slowly, (a little bit too slowly, considering I didn’t know if there were any more monsters lurking around the corner) she reached out and took my hand. I stood back up, and began walking. This time, she followed.

I started searching for the exit, keeping her hidden from the prowling undead. I used my bow when I needed to. I wasn’t about to let her get hurt.

“...My name’s Tess… wh.. um, what’s your name?”

Well, even if I could talk, I don’t think I really had a name. Huh. I’d never really stopped and thought about it before. So I just gave her a thumbs-up, not knowing what else to do.

“...Can you talk…?”

Nnnope. I shook my head no.

“Oh…”

I could just see the sunlight filtering through the fog of the Promenade of the Condemned. Speaking of things I’d never stopped and thought about before, why the hell would they call it the Promenade of the Condemned? Isn’t a promenade a kind of fruit?

But just before I was able to get her to safety, a grenade dropped down at us, and all hell broke loose. I threw her back, out of the blast radius, but the sharp burst of pain and knockback hit me square-on. It was followed up by a zombie flying into me like a bird into a glass window, knocking me off my feet. I wrestled the damn thing off of me, and I got to work on this last wave of enemies.

I was in deep shit. I’d let my guard down like a dumbass, and now I was absolutely terrified that that little kid was about to pay for my stupidity. I was pretty hurt, but damn it, I could still fight. And holy shit, did I fight. It was pretty badass.

But, because of fucking  _ course,  _ out of the back ranks came an Elite. Oh, fuck me. Right then, I was  _ positive _ that we were both absolutely boned.

I may not have an actual  _ brain, _ but I’m not stupid. I threw down some wolf traps, grabbed the girl, and hauled ass to the door while Commander Douchecanoe got his leg out. Or off. Whichever came first.

We were in the Havens. We’d made it.

I kicked in the door. I knew the Collector hated that, but I kinda had my hands full of kid, so he could just deal with it. Him, I was expecting, but there were others. The little kid… Bess, was it? No, Tess. She gasped. She wriggled out of my arms and ran to them.

They were her family.

“You have impeccable timing,” the Collector told me. I could hear the smile under his hood.

I shuffled to the wall and slid down. The adrenaline, or whatever I had instead, was wearing off. Shit. That really hurt.

“Thank you…” the oldest-looking stranger said.

I gave him a tired thumbs up.

“He can’t talk, but he’s nice!” Tess explained to who I think was her dad.

It… it felt good. Really good. I saved somebody. I made a change. I was a hero. Hell yeah. I leaned back and closed my eye. 

“Good night, Mr. Fire Man. Thank you…”

It was a good day.

**Author's Note:**

> God this was just a blast to write. I love the Beheaded.


End file.
